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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27129124">stalking horse</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson'>ndnickerson</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Nancy Drew - Carolyn Keene</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anti-Hero, Dark Crack, Established Relationship, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:29:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,319</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27129124</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ned's been waiting a long time for this visit.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nancy Drew/Ned Nickerson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>stalking horse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a pretty dark version of Ned, based on a conversation I had with mariss_ugh a while back. &gt;=) It was a way for us to work through our own trauma, mostly...</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Edmund Nickerson looked over his desk, checked the heavy silver watch on his wrist, stood and shot his cuffs. He stretched and readjusted, then reached for his suit coat. He needed to leave soon; he'd planned to bring his tux here and go straight to the reception, but it had been delivered to the residence by mistake.</p>
<p class="p1">He heard a quiet voice in the reception area, an almost soundless shift of a shoe sole over plush pile carpet. His administrative assistant appeared in the doorway, adjusting his glasses, his expression borderline apologetic.</p>
<p class="p1">"He's here." His English was faintly accented, his sideburns immaculate. The day Ned had spotted the edge of a tattoo when his collar shifted, he had been suddenly, secretly intrigued.</p>
<p class="p1">Ned snorted. "Took him long enough," he muttered, patting his pocket. "All right."</p>
<p class="p1">He had been waiting for this day for a while, now. It was impressive that his visitor had managed to do as much as he had, if it had taken him this long to put everything together.</p>
<p class="p1">Frank Hardy looked ill at ease in the embassy's reception area. He was staring at his phone, but he rose to his feet as soon as he saw Ned. "Drink?"</p>
<p class="p1">"A quick one," he said. "I have a reception tonight. Your car?"</p>
<p class="p1">During the ride there, Frank opened and closed his mouth a few times, and Ned couldn't help enjoying it. A smile curved his lips as he rested his arm along the doorframe and just drank it in.</p>
<p class="p1">The bars downtown, Ned knew from memory, were awful for the conversation that they needed to have, and he nearly selected one anyway. He reined it in and directed Frank to a parking space near an older brick building. The weather was good; they could sit on the patio in relative privacy.</p>
<p class="p1">While Frank was fluent in the local language, he was still ill at ease and didn't bring up what was on his mind until he and Ned were seated with beers in front of them. Ned sent a message that his arrival would now be fashionably late, and put his phone away, turning his full attention on the man facing him.</p>
<p class="p1">"So." Frank cleared his throat. "I'm your stalking horse."</p>
<p class="p1">Ned's eyebrows rose a hair, and he took another sip of his beer. Damn, it was good.</p>
<p class="p1">"You aren't even gonna bother denying it."</p>
<p class="p1">"Hi, Frank. Good to see you. It's been a while. Thanks for the wedding gift."</p>
<p class="p1">Frank's mouth tightened momentarily. "How many more, Nickerson?"</p>
<p class="p1">"How many more what?" Ned took another sip of his beer.</p>
<p class="p1">Frank held up a hand and started ticking off fingers. "Gray was shivved during a prison riot. Petrov supposedly crossed a particularly nasty branch of the Russian mafia. Devlin..." Frank shook his head. "They still haven't found his body."</p>
<p class="p1">It took all of Ned's self-control not to smile. They wouldn't find it, either.</p>
<p class="p1">"Why... Why me?"</p>
<p class="p1">That ebullient happiness in his chest fell to a quiet simmer. "It felt right," he said, his tone almost brusque.</p>
<p class="p1">"Because I'm good at what I do?"</p>
<p class="p1">Ned's smile was grim. "No matter whose payroll you're on."</p>
<p class="p1">Frank blanched. "What?"</p>
<p class="p1">Ned pushed his beer to the side, slowly, then rested his forearms on the table and leaned forward, his gaze on Frank's face as the other man tried and failed to meet his eyes. "At first," he said quietly, "I thought that maybe it was only a few of them. It was a bit of a blow to my ego, sure. But it was a promise I made to myself the night she said yes. That I'd get all of them."</p>
<p class="p1">Frank's jaw dropped. "You..."</p>
<p class="p1">Ned's gaze was fierce. "All I've done is turn the information you discovered over to the right people."</p>
<p class="p1">Frank, pale, shook his head. "That's—it's extralegal—"</p>
<p class="p1">Ned realized he was trembling faintly with rage, and forced himself to lean back, relax, take another sip of beer. "It's justice," he replied. "Petrov didn't have to get in bed with FSB. Pierce didn't have to buy a biotech company and jack the medication prices up."</p>
<p class="p1">Frank was quiet for a moment. Ned knew he was doing a quick calculation, if he hadn't already: the number of investigations he had done on mostly private citizens that had turned up the information Ned had used, versus the years Ned and Nancy had been dating before she had accepted his proposal and finally, completely given up flirting with other people. The sheer staggering number of people on the list Ned carried around in his head. Artists, musicians, law enforcement officers from nearly every conceivable organization, resort sailing instructors, spoiled wealthy playboys. He'd even worked out the timing, once: roughly every other month, she'd "met someone."</p>
<p class="p1">Well. Not anymore.</p>
<p class="p1">"How many more?"</p>
<p class="p1">"We're over halfway there." Ned felt his phone vibrate in his pocket: likely his wife's reply to his message.</p>
<p class="p1">"There is no 'we,' Nickerson, not anymore. Not now."</p>
<p class="p1">"I think there is." Ned finished his beer. "You're not doing anything wrong. Your hands are clean. When it comes to this, anyway."</p>
<p class="p1">Frank had finally picked up his own beer; now he let it strike the table with a solid <em>thunk</em>. "Shut up."</p>
<p class="p1">"Did you think you were the only person working for me? Once you figured it out?" Ned regarded him steadily. "Did you think no one would ever find out?"</p>
<p class="p1">Frank stood. Ned stood too, adjusting his cuffs. His phone vibrated in his pocket again. "We're done."</p>
<p class="p1">Ned's gaze was still serene. "Your usefulness to me determines... a lot, Hardy," he replied. "How much of your life are you willing to sacrifice?"</p>
<p class="p1">Frank shook his head. "You..."</p>
<p class="p1">"Wouldn't?" Ned filled in, once Frank had trailed off. The other man was still pale. "That's a completely unsubstantiated hope on your part. I know <em>everything</em> about your relationship with her, to start. I know I should count myself lucky, considering how you've treated Callie. I know where those checks came from two years ago, and why."</p>
<p class="p1">Frank regarded Ned with growing horror.</p>
<p class="p1">"Justice," Ned repeated.</p>
<p class="p1">Frank's adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and his voice, when it came, was hoarse. "How much longer..."</p>
<p class="p1">"Will I hold off?" Frank nodded, and Ned smiled. "Well. You <em>have</em> been useful, Hardy. And as much as I'd like to pull those particular triggers, I'll do you a favor. I'll save you for last."</p>
<p class="p1">Frank's hand closed into a fist. "You're a monster."</p>
<p class="p1">Ned took a step toward him. "She was my girlfriend," he said, his voice low, a growl through gritted teeth. "And a man who shows that kind of disrespect has shown himself to be dishonorable. If that rule can be broken, why not others? Because the rules don't apply to you." Ned bared his teeth briefly, and saw Frank shrink back for an instant. "Well, guess what? You crossed the wrong motherfucker."</p>
<p class="p1">At precisely eight-fifty-two that night, Edmund Nickerson slid out of the backseat of the embassy's hired car and offered his wife his hand. She accepted it and straightened to her enhanced height, her perfect feet nestled into sky-high heels, her sequined skirt rustling as it fell into place, brushing her ankles. She was gorgeous, aglow, and beaming at him.</p>
<p class="p1">"Ready for some light air kisses and discussions of the weather?"</p>
<p class="p1">Nancy nodded. "And fizzy champagne—and, a few hours from now, showing you exactly how much I'm <em>not</em> wearing under this."</p>
<p class="p1">Ned grinned and slid his arm around her waist as they started toward the door. "Sounds absolutely perfect," he murmured against her ear.</p>
<p class="p1">She shivered when his breath touched her skin. "Keep that up and we won't even make it inside."</p>
<p class="p1">Ned gave her a little squeeze and glanced down at her just as she glanced up at him. This had been so, so very hard-won, and she was his now. His now and forever.</p>
<p class="p1">Just as he alone was hers.</p>
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